Singing
by Kizzykat
Summary: Hephaestion wants the army to sing


Singing by Kizzykat

The twenty year old King of Macedon walked into the tent where his generals were waiting for him and paused for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the dimness. The generals, who looked up at his entrance, were standing around the map table placed in the centre of the hide tent, considering how they were to get through the mountain pass blocked by the Thracians.

The spring sunshine outside the tent caught the golden highlights in the King's light brown hair as he turned his head at a quiet movement beside him. The slender young man who had walked into the tent at his side, his long brown hair hiding his face, was moving into the side shadows where the lesser commanders of the King's army stood.

The King reached out his hand and caught the young man's arm, staying him. Hephaestion raised startlingly blue eyes to the King's face in surprise. Alexander smiled at him and slid his hand down the inside of his Hephaestion's arm to clasp his lover's hand. Interlocking their fingers, Alexander drew Hephaestion's hand behind his back, and turned to face his generals. For a moment, the two young men faced the generals before them with smiles innocent in their happiness.

Alexander saw the surprise turning to disapproval on some of the generals' faces, in particular Antipater's, one of his most senior generals and old enough to be his grandfather. Alexander's smile acquired a mischievous edge as he surveyed the other generals' faces, whose expressions varied from surprised, to annoyed, to faintly amused.

Hephaestion was surreptitiously trying to withdraw his hand from Alexander's grasp at the elderly general's annoyance, but Alexander was having none of it. Tightening his grip on his friend's hand, Alexander put his other hand behind his back and firmly imprisoned Hephaestion's hand within both of his own.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Alexander said, smiling warmly as he moved towards the map table, drawing Hephaestion close behind him. "I hope we have not kept you waiting."

"Good morning, Alexander," Antipater said. His eyes moved purposefully towards Hephaestion, but he forbore from saying anything about the young man's presence.

Alexander bent over the table, inspecting the map of the Thracian countryside. The bend of Alexander's back drew Hephaestion down too and he laid his cheek on Alexander's shoulder as he studied the map.

The sounds of amusement and disapproval were almost audible.

Without looking up, Alexander said, "We appear to have a problem, gentlemen. There is no way around this pass. Yet we have to take it if we are to secure all the territory as far as the Blue River." Alexander raised his deep-set brown eyes. "And we have to have the territory as far as the Blue River secured if we are to move into Asia. I don't want to leave you with unsecured borders, Antipater."

Hephaestion raised his big blue eyes, ringed by thick dark lashes, to gaze at Antipater from Alexander's shoulder. He looked as if he had just risen from bed, and he smiled, a sweet, lazy smile.

Antipater stared back, deliberately unmoved, but there were curious stirrings from the other generals. Alexander straightened, dislodging Hephaestion. Hephaestion tossed back his long hair as he straightened, releasing a faint waft of frankincense. Eyes throughout the tent were unwittingly drawn to the beautiful young man's face, to the perfect curve of his cheek and to his soft mouth. There were many who understood the young king's infatuation at that moment, and the gift of kingly perfume.

"We've been thinking, gentlemen," Alexander said, Hephaestion's hand still firmly imprisoned behind his back. "The wagons the Thracians have positioned on the slopes are not there for them to hide behind, as I'm sure you've realised. If they launch them down on top of us, I want the men to be prepared. Issue orders that they are to part and let the wagons through if they can. Where they don't have room to move out of the way, tell them to lie down and lock their shields over their heads. They must obey their officers' orders quickly and calmly. There must be no panic."

A soft voice said, "Let them sing."

Hephaestion had been standing quietly by Alexander's shoulder and Alexander turned his head to look at him with gentle questioning.

"Sing?" Antipater said incredulously.

"Yes," Hephaestion replied, unperturbed. "The Thracians won't know what we're doing and it will intimidate them. The sound will echo off the rocks and make our numbers seem greater."

"Alexander," said an angry voice, and everyone turned to look at Eumenes, the King's round-faced secretary. "This is arrant nonsense," he continued. "Singing? We will look like absolute fools."

Hephaestion opened his mouth to defend himself and made a move towards Eumenes, but Alexander pulled down on his arm and Hephaestion subsided. Before Alexander could say anything though, a chuckle sounded from the other side of the table.

"Actually, Alexander," said Cleitus the Black as he rubbed a hand over his chin to stop himself from grinning, "singing is not a bad idea. I for one know that twenty thousand voices singing in unison is enough to send shivers up anyone's spine, and it will let the Thracians know that we are not afraid of anything they can throw at us."

There were grins of approval all around the tent and Cleitus appeared to have sold the idea to most of the other generals.

"The Thracians are superstitious," said Parmenion, Alexander's most experienced general and almost the same age as Antipater. "They are likely to take it as an omen that we are possessed by the gods. Hopefully that will scare them witless."

"Hope is a weak weapon, Parmenion," Alexander said. "Confidence will be our principal strength." Alexander turned to Hephaestion. "What song is it to be, Hephaestion?"

"Dionysus' chant," Hephaestion replied. It was a strong, rolling song with a surging beat that celebrated Dionysus' march to the end of the world.

"Very well, gentlemen," Alexander said. "Pass the word and make sure everyone fully understands that they need to act as a body to avoid being broken apart by those wagons. Let every man know that I am cheerful of victory, and that they are not just to be cheerful of victory but to appear to be so too and sing lustily. I have every confidence in their discipline."

He drew Hephaestion's captive arm around his own waist and slid his right hand around Hephaestion's waist.

"Gentlemen," Alexander said, "we move out at mid-morning. And we will start singing Dionysus' chant as we enter the pass. The gods grant we all meet in health again tonight."

As Alexander and Hephaestion walked away from the command tent, their arms around each other, Antipater emerged from the tent and stood staring after them.

Parmenion stopped beside him as Cleitus walked by and said with a wide grin, "Alexander obviously enjoyed himself last night."

"They call it 'thinking' now," Craterus said, making Cleitus laugh and shake his head as they walked off together.

"Alexander is like a bee around a honey pot," Philotas said with a scornful laugh.

"Philotas! Watch your mouth," Parmenion said tersely.

Philtoas ducked his head apologetically at his father and walked away. Parmenion watched the retreating figures of Alexander and Hephaestion, now engaged in what looked like playful messing about.

"That young man is nothing but a whore," Antipater said crossly.

"No, he's not," Parmenion said equably. "He was just showing off."

Antipater gave a disparaging snort.

"Hephaestion's good for Alexander, Antipater. He's never been afraid of Alexander being a prince or a king, and he lets Alexander remember that he's a twenty-year old boy who should be enjoying life. Alexander would be lost without him, and very lonely."

"Alexander has plenty of friends," Antipater said, looking at Parmenion with a touch of indignation.

"Who? Your sons, or my sons? Or are they the King's friends?"

Antipater looked at Parmenion, still frowning. "Alexander is the King. Who doesn't want something from him?"

"All Hephaestion appears to be getting from Alexander so far is the warmth of his bed," Parmenion said.

"Exactly," Antipater said, "something any woman or slave could offer him."

"And the warmth of his heart," Parmenion added. "Don't underestimate Hephaestion, Antipater. He's no fool. Philotas moans about him, but he's no worse than any other nineteen year old in his first command, and a lot better than some. His men might be the first to go missing from camp, but their morale's high and he's popular with them, almost as popular as Alexander. It will be interesting to see how they perform today."

Antipater looked at Parmenion, reappraisingly. "You've been watching him."

"Yes," Parmenion said. "Alexander was making a point today, Antipater. He was letting us know that Hephaestion is here to stay. So we'd better get used to him."

Antipater hadn't survived for almost sixty years without being canny. He wasn't happy, but he understood that it would be better not to make an enemy of Hephaestion, and better still not to antagonise Alexander over his friend.

However, he didn't have to stand and watch his King behaving like a love-sick fool in front of the whole army.

"Ptolemy," he called. "Go ask Alexander if he wants ten or fifteen men abreast in the column."

Ptolemy nodded and walked away towards Alexander who was practically kissing Hephaestion in full view of everyone.

As Alexander and Hephaestion had walked away from the command tent, their arms around each other's waists, Alexander slid his hand down to Hephaestion's buttock. "You were very naughty," he said in a low voice. And he pinched Hephaestion's backside hard.

"Ow!" Hephaestion cried, and danced away out of Alexander's grasp. He laughed, skipping backwards as Alexander advanced on him. "I held my tongue with Eumenes. What more do you want?"

"You shouldn't flirt with the generals," Alexander said in mock reproof.

"Then you'll just have to teach me more kingly manners," Hephaestion laughed, twisting sideways to avoid Alexander's hands as Alexander was trying to tickle him. "Like holding my hand in front of the generals!"

"That's because," Alexander said, finally catching hold of Hephaestion's wrists, "I can't keep my hands off you."

"And why might that be, O great conquering one?" Hephaestion teased.

"Because," Alexander said, his voice softening and his eyes becoming very dark as he moved closer to Hephaestion.

Hephaestion stilled, his body moving instinctively to mould itself against Alexander's as Alexander shifted his hips forward to join Hephaestion's.

Alexander raised his hands to lift Hephaestion's hair back from his face, so close his eyes were full of Hephaestion. "There is you, and only you," he said softly, his voice heavy and warm and beginning to strain with need as, never breaking eye contact, he draped Hephaestion's hair back over his shoulders.

Hephaestion leant forward, his eyes closing as he nipped a quick kiss to Alexander's bottom lip. He moved higher and caught another two light kisses against Alexander's lips.

"Enough, enough," Alexander admonished gently. "There are too many people watching."

"Sorry," Hephaestion whispered, bowing his head slightly.

"Don't ever think," Alexander said fiercely, making Hephaestion look up at him, "that I don't love you enough."

"I know that," Hephaestion said, making Alexander laugh. Hephaestion sounded just like an indignant six year old who thought he was being explained to like he was a baby.

"Alexander!" called a voice from behind them. They turned, smiling at the sight of Ptolemy as he approached. Hephaestion slipped his arms around Alexander to keep him close as he turned to face Ptolemy and Alexander caught hold of Hephaestion's wrists to keep him behind him. Hephaestion rested his chin on Alexander's shoulder and grinned at Ptolemy.

Ptolemy tried not to grin at them as he approached. "Antipater wants to know if you want the column ten or fifteen men wide as we enter the pass."

Alexander rolled his eyes. "Gods, he knows the road isn't wide enough to take fifteen abreast. Tell him ten. No, make it twelve, then if anything comes straight at them, there won't be a man in the middle who doesn't know which way to go."

Alexander caught his bottom lip in his teeth. Hephaestion had placed his right leg alongside Alexander's and Alexander, tempted, had wrapped his leg around Hephaestion's and they were now wrestling for supremacy. Suddenly, Alexander shifted his weight and they went down hard on to their right sides, Hephaestion taking most of the impact of the fall.

"Ouch, get off me, you idiot!" Hephaestion cried, pushing at Alexander. "It's too stony here!"

Alexander rolled away and scrambled to his feet as Hephaestion got up, holding his hip with a pained expression on his face.

"Let me see," Alexander said quietly, advancing.

Hephaestion briefly raised uncertain blue eyes to Alexander before letting him lift his chiton over his hip to expose a large graze, already swelling and turning a bloody blue. Ptolemy, keeping a respectful distance, winced at the painful-looking bruise.

Alexander, frowning, touched the bruise gently but Hephaestion imperceptibly shied away and, aware of Ptolemy watching, let his chiton drop.

"Put a hot compress on it," Alexander ordered quietly.

"There isn't time," Hephaestion said. He raised his arm and inspected a grazed elbow on which beads of blood were showing. Alexander bent his head and kissed the bloodied skin, and Hephaestion, colouring slightly, dropped his arm.

"I am going to have to go," Hephaestion said, glancing briefly at Ptolemy. "Philotas will have my hide if I'm late."

Philotas was Hephaestion's commanding officer, and Alexander was aware that he was giving Hephaestion a hard time.

Hephaestion did not complain though, and the most that he would say was that Philtoas was finding his feet in his first major command. Yet Alexander was aware that Philotas's persecution of Hephaestion went far beyond letting a junior officer know his place and had as much to do with Alexander as it did with Hephaestion.

It ate at Alexander's heart to know Hephaestion was being victimised, yet there was absolutely nothing he could do that would not make the situation worse. Until Philotas gave up, or the other officers made their disapproval plain, Hephaestion would have to fight his own battles and make Philotas back off.

Alexander took Hephaestion by the shoulders and looked straight into his eyes. He hated going into battle and being unable to know how Hephaestion was faring until it was all over.

Hugging Hephaestion to him fiercely, Alexander whispered into his ear, "Take care. Come back to me in one piece." Alexander swore that at the first opportunity, he was going to promote Hephaestion to a Bodyguard so that he could go into battle beside him.

Hephaestion pulled back to look into Alexander's eyes, his own eyes bright and fierce. He took Alexander's face in his hands.

"Don't fail me," was all he could manage to say, his voice breaking.

Don't lose this battle; don't die on me; don't be anything less than a hero to me. Alexander knew everything he meant to say.

Hephaestion broke free from Alexander and walked determinedly away, his step purposeful and his head high.

"Gods," Alexander whispered. Ptolemy moved nearer and saw that the King was trembling. "He expects so much from me," Alexander said in a strained voice.

Ptolemy knew it was just pre-battle nerves and that Alexander needed to calm down. "It's no more than you expect from yourself, Alexander," he said. He looked after Hephaestion, where Alexander's eyes were firmly fixed on his retreating figure.

"You're very lucky, Alexander," Ptolemy said. "You two have been together for what, seven years, and he still adores you. His body just melts into yours. You can't fake that. Don't let anyone tell you, Alexander, that he's just in it for what you can give him."

"I know," Alexander said softly. "He won't let me give him a thing, Ptolemy, that he hasn't earned ten times over."

"He's very proud, and why shouldn't he be?"

Alexander gave a wry smile. "He's stubborn."

"Alexander, that is the pot calling the kettle black!" Ptolemy said. "You are the stubbornest bastard I've ever met."

Alexander laughed. "I am not stubborn: I am determined. And I am determined that we are going to get through that pass with the minimum of casualties. For which we need discipline and focus. And singing. The most disciplined, whole-hearted singing you've ever heard."

"Agreed," Ptolemy said with a grin as they went to get armed.

Note: The wagons are true but unfortunately the singing's not.

Antipater and Parmenion would not have been with Alexander on this campaign, but it was easier to use well known names.


End file.
